Too far

Documented this chilling scene at the Kunde Estate Winery in Sonoma, CA.

The only way this might be, if not socially acceptable, then at least morally acceptable, would be if this were actually Tom Brady’s car. Which it’s certainly not. Tom Terrific would never be seen in public driving a Z3—which, let’s be honest, is BMW’s answer to the Miata and its fortysomething gay male target market.

I wouldn’t be surprised, however, if Mr. Brady were chloroformed and hogtied in the trunk.

That being said, I have no doubt these adornments are only the tip of the foreskin regarding this lunatic’s New England Patriots dedication—and the demons he battles daily.

(indeed excessive, but not yet madness…until we take two paces forward)

(the extra Pats logo magnet on top of the original magnet is what makes it classy, see)

07.21.2010 "Big," Macy Gray. For anyone seeking another Macy Gray album on par with "On How Life Is," look no further. Though not as instantly catchy, with repeated listenings it's simply euphoric. "Big" showcases Macy's highly under-appreciated wordsmithery, her peerless phrasing and that otherworldly helium voice—the most engaging and expressive female voice I've heard since Nina Simone.

02.18.2011 “Return to the Sea,” Islands. Following the brilliant, short, happy life of Montreal indie rock band The Unicorns and their gem, “Who Will Cut Our Hair When We’re Gone?” frontman Nick Diamonds and drummer J’aime Tambeur emerged from the ashes to form Islands—and one of the more compellingly quirky, epic, sprawling and distinctive albums known to man.

09.15.2011 "Fuzzy" and "Mighty Joe Moon," Grant Lee Buffalo. Part Wilco, part Eddie Vedder, part Elliott Smith. And yet, completely original. Why more people haven’t heard Grant Lee Buffalo is a crime against good taste. Two of the best albums of the ‘90s right here, masterfully written, voiced and shredded by Grant-Lee Phillips.

12.7.2011 "Mr. Wizard," R.L. Burnside. If this old school, north Mississippi juke joint bluesman doesn't (at the very least) get your head a-bobbin' or toe a-tappin', then you're fucked—because you have no soul. That's a fact. Burnside, a toothless, badass septuagenarian who's now passed away, shreds Mississippi Delta blues—right when it turned electric. Saw him in concert back in 2001, and it was easily one of the top 3 shows I've ever had the privilege to attend.